


Drowning

by aeris7dragon



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:16:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeris7dragon/pseuds/aeris7dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stupid EriKar one-shot. I don't ship this. I was mainly trying out second-person present-tense writing, and this drivel came up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you can't breathe.

You don't remember how this happened, and at the moment you can't bring yourself to care. All you know is that your lungs are clenching in need of oxygen, that your arms and legs are useless in aiding you to the surface of the roiling water you're now submerged in. You don't even know which way is up.

You're drowning, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it.

The river, lake, whirlpool, whatever it is, has got you caged and bound at the same time; the invisible currents in the dark water are preventing your limbs from moving the way you want them to, and bubbles are starting to force their way out of your nostrils and your mouth. You reach for those small pockets of air, desperately, but when your hand finally clenches around one it disperses into a million tiny bubbles, and they all skitter away from you faster than the rate you're being pulled down.

You grit your teeth in despair, the water around your eyes turning red from the tears coming from them, and decide to give up. No one cares, anyway. You were born into a world of hatred, in which one can kill another just for the color of their blood. Just for looking at them the wrong way. Just for _existing_. You know there are a few people that care, but in the grand scheme of things they'll all be better off forgetting you. The thought makes the density of red before you grow darker, but you can't bring yourself to give a damn.

Your vision's growing dark now. It's doing so in a way that makes you feel like this really must be the end, though the notion of your death has already sunk in (no pun intended). So you barely feel it when an arm circles around your chest, when someone's body presses against your back, and thrusts in a direction you think might be upward. That's when your eyes close for, what you dread and hope at the same time, might be the last time.

–

You awake only a few minutes later to the feeling of someone's lips pressing on yours. A great swell of air pushes through you into your lungs, and you cough, salty water sputtering forth as you lean to the side into someone's hand.

You're breathing again.

You look up to see the concerned face of another troll, one who seems familiar, but you're too tired to try and remember his name. To say the least, you're surprised. Why would any troll want to save another's life? Especially one who is, by the looks of the fins on either side of his face, “higher-up” on the hemospectrum than a land-dweller like yourself? You have the strange inkling that you must have died after all, that you drowned and are still swirling in the fathomless sea while your soul's gone to whatever idiotic afterlife there is.

“Are you okay?” you hear, but barely; the guy was speaking at a normal decibel, you can tell, but your head's still swimming along with the current you were just dragged out of, and you don't know how much water collected in your ears. All you know is that you want to go back to sleep; that staying awake is a labor not worth the effort at the time being. But before you black out again you feel yourself being taken into your rescuer's arms and lifted from the ground, and you can't help one of your hands reaching up to grab the front of his wet shirt.

–

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you have no idea what the fuck just happened.

You don't even know why you cared. Why did you care? This was Karkat Vantas, one of the friends you really wish you didn't have to associate with. Yet, why do you? You suppose it's because of the things you both have in common; neither of you able to find anyone for your quadrants, the ridicule you both endure from your other friends (though for different reasons).

Or maybe it was how absolutely pathetic he looked being dragged under by the current; pathetic, yes, and vulnerable, defenseless... It made you feel he was in your power. After all, you are a sea dweller, and he had been trapped by the sea. You see the connection there, don't you?

You weren't worried about that two minutes ago. Two minutes ago you were more worried about saving his life than about your motivation for doing so. When his hand went up to clutch the front of your shirt, you gripped him a little tighter, more protectively. Why protectively? You have no idea.

You call your lusus and put Karkat in the saddle mounted on the large seahorse's back, then sit behind him and brace him with one arm while the other grips the reins. You steer toward Karkat's house, then practically knock the door down when his lusus doesn't come to answer it quick enough, carrying the unconscious boy inside like you're his matesprit carrying him over the threshold. And then you banish that thought because of how fucking cheesy it sounded.

You carefully ease him into his recuperacoon, brushing sand-dusted, still-damp bangs from his eyes. His face visibly relaxes its furrowed brow into something a little more comforted, and you can't help but press your lips to his forehead.

As you turn to go, you realize his hand's still gripping a handful of your shirt.


End file.
